[All characters belong to J.K Rowling, I own no one. Percy/Oliver]

Most people looked at Percy as a bigheaded prat who was only good at school. Even his own family members saw him as that most times. Of course Percy knew how he was viewed and he ignored any criticism, but he also knew he was only good at three things when it came to athletics. He couldn't fly on a broomstick, he couldn't hit a ball with a bat, nor could he throw, but he could run, he could kick and he could catch. The running came from years of being bullied. He had to be able to run fast enough to avoid a regular beating and after a few years, they seemed to have given up. He hated Quidditch because he couldn't fly, so any chance in actually playing the sport was hopeless. While Bill, Charlie, Fred, George and Ron were off playing Quidditch, Percy would quietly go outside where he wasn't noticed (Which wasn't hard, he was rarely noticed). He had asked his father to keep a muggle football when he was little, and Arthur wasn't about to pass up Percy's only interest in anything sport related and gladly handed it over. So, over the years, he'd go out and play all by himself. He had become quite good. He never told anyone, he didn't want them to challenge him and beat him without even trying.

"Percy…?"

Oliver nudged him again and he looked up. Percy had been thinking of this while sitting with Oliver and watching a game of football. Percy, usually one who always paid attention to everything, was slightly embarrassed by his lack of attention toward his boyfriend and turned a very light pinkish color. Oliver smiled and pointed to the television (thankfully not noticing Percy's blush).

"Look, the goalie is like the Keeper, it's so weird!"

Even though he still wasn't fully attentive, Percy nodded in agreement. Oliver looked at him, grinning.

"Do you think we could play this sometime? Two on Two?"

Percy raised an eyebrow and chuckled, obviously Oliver had messed up his words.

"Two on two?"

Oliver had just realized it and groaned, he hit his palm to his head and chuckled.

"I meant one on one."

Percy nodded and gave a small, hardly noticeable smirk.

"Okay, and I bet I could beat you."

Oliver looked at Percy and nearly started to laugh; he obviously thought Percy had gone nutters if Percy believed he could beat Oliver in athletics.

"Wanna put some money on that?"

Percy nodded and said rather smugly. "Yes, I do"

Oliver smirked.

"I bet you five galleons I can win."

"And I say ten galleons I will win."

Percy knew he was being cocky and he didn't care, he was confident he could beat Oliver. Percy had played the sport and Oliver hadn't even heard of it until a week ago.

"I raise mine to twelve and throw in a night where the loser is at the mercy of the winner."

Percy looked at Oliver, his smirk had grown into an over-confident grin. Percy smiled and responded with a simple, one word answer.

"Deal."

"I'm gonna win, but give me a bit to refresh myself on the rules and whatnot."

"Okay, it wouldn't matter though; I'll be the one who wins."

"Someone's cocky today."

Oliver chuckled and got up, he ran upstairs and grabbed a book on the sport and ran back down, sitting next to Percy again. Later on that day, they went to an old football field in muggle London Percy knew of.

"How'd you know of this place?"

"I wander…"

Percy summoned the ball he always used to play with and dropped it on the grass. He smirked and put his foot on top of the ball.

"Ready to lose, Oliver?"

"As soon as you're ready to."

Percy smirked and started the game, he rolled the ball back behind his foot and stepped back as Oliver ran forward. He knew brute force wouldn't win the game. Percy kicked the ball away from Oliver and ran with it. Oliver stood there for a moment before realizing where Percy was going. He turned around and ran after him, Percy was grinning, he made sure the ball wasn't too far from him so Oliver couldn't get it. Oliver ran as fast as he could. He couldn't keep up with Percy's speed. Percy kicked the ball into the goal and smirked, waiting for Oliver to go get it.

"You never said…"

"Did I forget to leave something out?"

Oliver rolled his eyes and started to run; kicking the ball along, Percy allowed him to get ahead by a few points before stealing the ball away and scoring a goal for his own. After about half an hour was up, Percy lead 12-9. Oliver was becoming thoroughly annoyed. He hated to lose games of any sort and the fact that he was losing to 'Perfect Prefect Percy' just made him even more annoyed. Percy seemed to showing no effort whatsoever, although he was. He never actually played a game against someone so he never had done something so strenuous before. He didn't care, he wanted to beat Oliver and that's what he was going to do. Percy went easy; he knew he was going to anyway. At the end of the match, both men were very sweaty and tired, Oliver seemed to have calmed down and wasn't as annoyed anymore.

"G-Good game…"

Percy nodded and didn't think he had the energy to speak. He looked at Oliver and smiled. Oliver remembered the bet and smiled.
"Guess I owe you ten galleons and is your slave for the night. What's your first command?"

"Kill me…"

Percy chuckled and sat up, Oliver laughed, which was preceded by the usual snort and looked at Percy.

"What was that?"

"I…have never done something…so exhausting…in my life…"

Percy was speaking in between his gasps for air. Oliver helped him off the ground. Percy stumbled and stood up straight. He took off his glasses and put them in his pocket; it was less effort than having them to push them back up onto his sweaty face every few seconds. Oliver took Percy home to their flat and set him on the couch, Percy smiled and looked at him.

"That was fun, huh?"

"Very, and I was a little annoyed you beat me."
"Oh, I know, it was easy to tell."

"Okay then Perce, what now?"

"Just sit here and do nothing…"